“Hall-marked and all!” she said.

She laid it down with emphasis.

“Perhaps you know,” she said, fixing her beady black eyes upon Mrs. Hopkins’s face, “that I’ll be very low as regards victuals for the rest of this week.  But never mind; I am never one to press what it ain’t convenient to return.  Ah! and here comes the dinner.  Well, I will say that I have a good appetite.—­You can push me right up to the table, Tom, my boy.”

Tom did push the old lady into the most comfortable seat.  She now removed her mittens, put a napkin on her lap, and bent forward with a look of appetite to regard the different dishes which Ellen, the tiny twelve-year-old servant, brought in.  Ellen trembled very much in the company of the old lady, and Mrs. Hopkins trembled still more.  But Susy, who saw no reason why she should bow down before Aunt Church, ate her good dinner with appetite, tossed her little head, and felt that she was making a sensation.  Tom was very attentive to Mrs. Church, and helped her to a large glass of ginger-wine.  She thoroughly enjoyed her dinner, and, while she was eating it, forgot all about Susy and the pale-blue cashmere blouse.

But when the meat had been followed by the apple-pudding, and the apple-pudding by some coffee which was served in real china cups, and Mrs. Church had folded her napkin and swept the crumbs from her bombazine dress, and Mrs. Hopkins, assisted by Susy, had removed the cloth, and the little maid had swept up the hearth, Mrs. Church began to recollect herself.  It is true she was no longer hungry nor cold, for the fire was plentiful, and the sun also poured in at the small window.  But Mrs. Church had a memory and, as she believed, a grievance.  In her tiny house on the common four miles away firing was scarce, and food was scarcer.  The owner of the house did not care to spend more than a very limited sum of money on coals and food.  There was nothing in the cottage for Mrs. Church’s supper except a bit of stale cake, a hunch of brown bread, and a little tea.  The tea would have to be drunk without milk, and with only a modicum of brown sugar, for Mrs. Church was determined to spend no money, if possible, until Mrs. Hopkins paid the debt which had been due on the previous day.  It was one thing, therefore, for Mrs. Church’s debtors to eat good roast beef and good boiled pork and good apple-pudding, but it was another thing for Mrs. Church to tolerate it.  She fixed her eyes now on Susy in a very meaning way.  Susy had never appealed to the old lady’s fancy, and she appealed less than ever to-day.

“Come right over here, little girl,” said Mrs. Church, waving a thin arm and motioning Susy to approach.

Susy Hopkins, remembering her blouse and her proud position as a member of the Cabinet of the Queen of the Wild Irish Girls, felt for a moment inclined to disobey; but Mrs. Church had a certain power about her, and she impelled Susy to come forward.